The Great Plains yield to Hills, July, 2011

The heat continued on the plains. But there was always air conditioning, cool breezes, cold drinks and cool nights.

Pa's cottonwoods in the background

Desmet, South Dakota is a mecca for Laura Ingalls Wilder fans, and they come from all over the world (and Minnesota too). My 8-year old daughter Bella is reading The Long Winter. At the Wilder Farmstead, in the exact spot the Wilders homesteaded, next to the big slough, where cottonwoods Pa planted still grow and an exact replica of their house sits where it was, you can while away a few hours or camp on the prairie as we did. In our tent we read one of the later chapters of The Long Winter. Almanzo and Cap make it make through the blizzard to deliver the wheat just as many of the families are running out. But the next day the merchant, whose store still stands in town, tries to make too much of a profit on the people. We paid $10 to camp, about as cheap as any place. Another $10 will get you access to the homestead, including wagon rides, plenty of hands-on activities like rope making and kitten petting and lots of buildings to explore. Before we went to bed, Bella asked what the white, cloudy color was in the starry sky. It was the Milky Way, the center of our galaxy, clear and large over the prairie sky. I swear I’ve pointed it out to her before, but maybe now she’s older and knows what it is and perhaps it was just so noticeable with few trees or lights around.

The Black Hills were our next destination on the western side of South Dakota. We had a campsite reserved for a couple nights that sat along Grizzly Creek, a few miles from Mount Rushmore. Grove, park-like stands of tall, spaced out Ponderosa pines with their bare lower trunks fill the quartz and granite mountains. Lavender swaths of wild bergamont colored the understory of the forest.

We mountain biked on trails, walked through the long passages of Wind Cave, and watched the lights come on the President’s heads in the evening and looked at the massive sculptures from different angles in the day.

And when it got to 100 degrees, we needed water. Hot springs bubble up throughout the west, and one with and enticing 87-degree temperature wasn’t far away. I didn’t need a lot of convincing to initiate Bella into the cult of hot spring appreciation. She knew about them from our last trip out west and happily assented to this trip. Evan’s Plunge in the town of Hot Springs did the trick for us. A giant indoor pool with a rock bottom, slides, and even a lap area for me cooled us completely.

We were very close to the Rockies and would be there by day’s end, high in an alpine meadow full of wild flowers with snow still on the peaks.